


Chicago Bursts To Life (And Your Sweet Smile Remembers You)

by jenish (phizzle)



Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-06-26
Updated: 2006-06-26
Packaged: 2017-10-08 02:18:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/71672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phizzle/pseuds/jenish





	Chicago Bursts To Life (And Your Sweet Smile Remembers You)

Going home is kind of weird these days. It's not because of Joe (of course it's because of Joe) but his folks are … just different. Nothing major. Only that they treat him like The Son Who's Making Some Choices They Disapprove Of But They're Willing To Support Him Because They Know He'll Come Around Eventually, He's Such A Good Boy.

Patrick is just a little bit sick of being A Good Boy.

"Ignore them," Joe advises, breath warm on his ear, lips grazing. "I mean, as long as we don't fuck on your bed while they're in the house, they're just going to pretend it's not happening, right?"

Patrick sighs. "I guess. It's just, it's _weird_ having them look at me like I'm a stranger suddenly." He thinks of Christmas, and he buries his nose in the scent of Joe's hair.

"Doesn't matter," Joe insists. Patrick decides that Joe is right.

He kisses him, tip of his tongue darting out and catching and holding. He tastes like – well, like Joe. Patrick likes the taste of Joe. He likes it when they're ensconced in a corner of the bus like this, just them. Joe knows exactly where to touch him, and oh, Patrick likes that, and this could be the last time for a week or two and Patrick wants to savour it.

The end of a tour. Pete and Andy have already gone home; Pete got a call that made his face light up in that particular way that means he'll call Patrick in a day or three or a week from now and he'll have to just listen and sing to him and tell him to get the fuck over here so he can give him a hug. Andy had patted Joe on the arm and left half an hour after Pete.

Patrick and Joe have this one last day, and then Patrick goes to see his parents and everyone, and Joe has friends to visit and they won't see each other for a week. It's the first time they've been home since, you know, well. _Since you guys started fucking_, Pete put it, eloquently as ever. They didn't want to overload people who hadn't seen them in months right away with "Hi, how are you, did you know I'm kinda gay now?" There were ex-girlfriends to be tactful around, and a whole mess of other factors and Patrick's head hurts a little when he thinks too much about it.

So he doesn't think too much about it. He just shifts against Joe and tastes him on his tongue and feels the press of fingers and the slide of palms and the shift of clothes. Sounds of zips and cloth and sighs; sensation of wetness and swirling motion and hair between his fingers; sight of Joe's head bobbing, eyes locked on his, mouth working and sucking and lapping. Patrick's neck arches, and he can't breathe. "Joe," he presses out at last.

It'll be the last time for a week, they say. Patrick knows he'll call Joe every night and put the phone down horny and still alone in his bed. He knows they'll make up for it when Joe finally comes over, maybe in three days, maybe in five, and they'll fuck against the door, Patrick rocking desperately into him, and they won't come out of bed until the next afternoon. For now, this time will do.


End file.
